


Time Off

by tastewithouttalent



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, No Plot/Plotless, Phone Calls & Telephones, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:01:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24822772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastewithouttalent/pseuds/tastewithouttalent
Summary: "'Sensei,' Ukai says, and turns to brace his hip against the wall next to him as he settles the phone between his shoulder and ear. 'I should have known it was you.'" Ukai gets a phone call during a slow period at work and Takeda persuades him to a downtime indulgence.
Relationships: Takeda Ittetsu/Ukai Keishin
Comments: 22
Kudos: 447
Collections: because people don’t have wings they look for ways to fly





	Time Off

The Sakanoshita store is empty when the phone rings.

It’s been empty for some time. Ukai has long since learned the rhythm of work at the shop, from the rush of high school students at the end of the school day to the early-morning browsing of grandmothers who arrive at opening and remain for as much as an hour as they deliberately peruse every offering before making their choices. This is one of the quiet hours, where he’ll be lucky to see so much as two customers through the whole evening, and he is indulging in his preferred occupation for such times. He’s well into the latest volume of manga he keeps stowed away under the edge of the front counter, and invested enough in the story that his cigarette has burned to a half-inch of ash without his attention. Under the circumstances the bright jangle of the phone startles him back to the present, jerking the hand holding his cigarette and toppling the ash to land half in the ashtray and half across the counter. Ukai grimaces at the mess and turns the volume face-down on the counter so he can make a half-hearted swipe to clean the mess before depositing the burnt-down cigarette properly into the ashtray and getting to his feet to take the call.

“Sakanoshita Store,” he says, speaking with easy professionalism almost before he has the receiver at his ear.

There is an exhale at the speaker, a huff of startled pleasure familiar enough that Ukai knows who it is on the other end of the line even before the sunlight-bright voice comes to follow it.  _ “Ukai-kun?” _

Ukai smiles in spite of himself. “Sensei,” he says, and turns to brace his hip against the wall next to him as he settles the phone between his shoulder and ear. “I should have known it was you.”

_ “Am I interrupting?” _ There is true concern on Takeda’s voice, his habitual politeness polished bright and nervous with consideration.  _ “If you have customers—” _

Ukai waves his hand through the air in front of him to gesture this aside, even though Takeda can’t see the motion. “Nah,” he says, glancing out at the door to the shop. “No one comes by at this time of night. I don’t think I’ve seen another person since the last of the high schoolers took off.”

_ “Oh,” _ Takeda breathes, relief audible on his tone.  _ “That’s good. I don’t want to intrude on your work.” _

Ukai lifts his eyebrows. “Never bothered you before,” he drawls. “What’d you need me for, sensei? I’m all yours.”

Ukai is deliberately teasing, of course. With no audience within earshot it’s easier than otherwise to let his voice drift into flirtatious affection, to let the suggestion of innuendo fit itself to purr against the inside of his chest. He’s anticipating the sharp catch of an inhale from Takeda, perhaps a blurted insistence that he’s not calling for personal reasons, that it’s about the team, that he has a simple question; but there is no anxious reassurance, and when Takeda takes a breath it draws long and deliberate instead of hurried into panic. Ukai pauses, his attention caught by this disruption to his expectations, and on the other side of the line Takeda speaks in a much softer voice than Ukai expected.  _ “You said the store is empty right now, Ukai-kun?” _

Ukai’s gaze jumps out across the aisles of the convenience store, skimming over the empty paths as if urged to check his own certainty by the murmur of Takeda’s voice in his ear. He can feel his shoulders tensing, can feel his face heating with self-consciousness even with no one there to see him as he shifts a little closer in to the wall, turning to angle his shoulders towards the phone while he keeps an eye on the closed door of the shop. “Yeah,” he says, dragging the word long on suspicion. “Why, sensei?”

Takeda’s gusting exhale is so loud against the receiver that Ukai would swear he can feel the heat of it prickle across the back of his neck and wind tendrils of sensation along his skin.  _ “Can you take ten minutes for a personal call?” _

Ukai has no idea where Takeda is going with this, no guess as to the reason for the self-conscious strain on the other’s voice, but his heart is beating faster regardless, answering curiosity with adrenaline before he has even seen the shape of what Takeda is offering. “Yeah,” he says, still watching the door. “That should be fine, as long as no one comes in.”

_ “Oh, of course,” _ Takeda says, a little too quickly for Ukai to trust.  _ “If you have to hang up I understand completely, Ukai-kun. I know I’m intruding on your work. I just wanted…” _

“What?” Ukai asks, more tense with curiosity than the resistance he ought to be mustering.

Takeda clears his throat.  _ “I—I was thinking of you, Ukai-kun.” _

“Yeah?” Ukai says, a smile pulling at his lips in spite of himself. “Is that why you called?”

_ “That is part of it,” _ Takeda admits.  _ “And I wanted to hear your voice.” _ He clears his throat again, like he’s bracing himself for a delicate admission, or like he’s having trouble finding breath for the words.  _ “Only for a—a few minutes.” _

“It couldn’t wait?” Ukai asks. “I’ll be off in a few hours. Or you coulda come in yourself, no one minds you visiting during slow times.”

Takeda’s laugh is shaky, trembling over something that prickles at the back of Ukai’s thoughts with familiarity that doesn’t quite admit to coming into focus as he reaches to place it.  _ “Yes,” _ Takeda admits.  _ “But I don’t think what I had in mind is exactly. Um. Work-appropriate.” _

Ukai cocks his head to the side, frowning as he fumbles for recognition of Takeda’s tone. He  _ knows _ that sound, he’s heard that particular catch of breath and that high strain on Takeda’s voice more times than he can count, if he could just—and there’s a note from the phone against his ear, a muffled sound of involuntary response, and Ukai feels his whole body flash instantly hot with a physical response to the recognition his thoughts are still struggling over.

“Sensei,” Ukai blurts into the phone. “Are you—?” He cuts himself off before the end of the sentence, closing his mouth over the words as his face colors with embarrassment, but Takeda doesn’t seem to need the rest of the sentence, judging from the breathless huff of a laugh he gives.

_ “I missed you,” _ he says, as if that’s sufficient reason to explain Ukai standing in the middle of his parent’s store with the sound of his boyfriend jerking off on the other end of the phone pressed to his ear.  _ “I’m looking forward to seeing you later tonight as well, of course, but I thought I could make good use of the intervening time as well.” _ He breathes out against the receiver, a half-muffled exhale that Ukai can feel pulse his blood to steam just on hearing before he struggles into another inhale and shifts to bring his mouth audibly closer to the receiver.  _ “And to see if you might have a few minutes to spare from work.” _

Ukai grits his teeth together so the sound in his throat will pass for a growl instead of the moan it is. “I’m  _ at work_,” he pleads. “We could get a customer at any time.”

_ “But there’s no one there right now, right?” _ Takeda is speaking faster, now, tumbling his words together so he can fit them between the increasingly strained inhales he’s taking.  _ “If someone arrives please hang up, I don’t want to interfere with your work.” _

Ukai huffs. “You just want to...call me while I’m here,” he says. He lifts his free arm to press his forearm to the wall in front of him, blocking the shape of the phone as if the mere glimpse of the receiver might grant someone insight into the subject under discussion. “What am  _ I _ supposed to do, sensei?”

_ “Nothing!” _ Takeda is quick to reply, gasping the words into anxious haste.  _ “I don’t expect anything from you under the circumstances, Ukai-kun. I was just hoping I could hear your voice while…” _ He clears his throat, or at least makes the gesture towards it.  _ “Only for a few minutes.” _

“You keep saying that,” Ukai says. He tips away from his lean over the phone to look behind him, at the shop that remains as empty now as it has for the last hour, and around the corner that connects to his parent’s residence, feeling like a guilty teenager with the house to himself. He curls his shoulders back in over the phone, ducking his head for good measure before he speaks in nearly a whisper. “How close  _ are _ you, sensei?”

_ “Oh,” _ Takeda gasps.  _ “I’m—_quite _ close.” _

Ukai breathes out, carefully so the tension tight at his throat doesn’t turn the exhale into the groan it wants very much to be. “What are you doing?”

_ “I’m just using my hand,” _ Takeda volunteers with ready speed, as if this detail is enough to soften the fundamental premise of calling Ukai to listen to him jerking off over the phone.  _ “I can’t—I have to hold the phone.” _

“Yeah.” Ukai’s voice is rasping, dipping into depths of shadow that he can’t retrieve it from while his heart is pounding this fast and his blood is running this hot. He looks back over his shoulder for one more furtive glance around the store before he leans back in to press his forehead to his arm and speak in a murmur against the receiver. “Brace it against your shoulder.”

The huff of a breath Takeda offers in reply to this says he feels the surrender of the words as clearly as Ukai does, but he doesn’t comment aloud. There is the rustle of motion, a soft-caught breath as Takeda repositions himself, and then words again, a little closer against the receiver than they were.  _ “Okay.” _

Ukai swallows past the knot in his throat. “Keep going,” he says. The words are innocuous in themselves but Ukai feels them as hot as if their applied meaning is audible on his voice.

If Takeda is aware of Ukai’s self-consciousness he doesn’t acknowledge it.  _ “Okay,” _ he says again, faster than before. There is another rustle of sound and Ukai’s imagination offers a vivid image of Takeda shifting against the sheets of his bed, twisting so he can brace himself on one hip while he keeps the phone caught between his shoulder and head. When Takeda breathes out a whimpering sigh of relief Ukai has to shut his eyes against the clarity of the image that presents itself.

_ “Ukai-kun," _ Takeda says.  _ “Is this okay?” _

Ukai coughs a laugh that comes out strangled around the heat in his throat. “I’m not going to hang up,” he says, and shifts his feet a little closer to the wall he’s braced against in a show of what he hopes will look casual should anyone suddenly come through the door of the store. “Your timing could be better, sensei.”

_ “Ah,” _ Takeda breathes.  _ “Yes. I  _ am _ sorry about that.” _ Ukai has his doubts about the sincerity of that particular claim, but Takeda is continuing without waiting for a response.  _ “I didn’t intend to interrupt your work day, Ukai-kun. But I was thinking of you, and…” _

“Yeah,” Ukai says. “I know.”

Takeda breathes out hard against the phone, a sound Ukai’s imagination suggests into the flex of a wrist and the tremor of a thigh. Ukai grimaces and shifts his weight again, pulling against the waistband of his jeans in a futile attempt to maneuver the denim into somewhat greater comfort against the response his body is staging to the sound of Takeda’s increasingly ragged breathing. He knows Takeda too well for his mental image to lack any clarity of detail; memory is joining forces with overheated imagination to sketch out the open tilt of Takeda’s knee against the bedsheets, the part of heat-struck lips, the motion of slick fingers as he works over and into himself. If Ukai shuts his eyes he can see it like Takeda’s right in front of him, as if he’s watching the other’s bright gaze melt into hazy inattention as his cheeks flush pink and his breathing draws tight in time with the pull of his grip over himself.

Ukai’s cock throbs, protesting its restraint within his jeans and beneath the blessed cover offered by his apron; he still reaches to catch at the hem of his sweater and tug it lower over his hips, as if the extra layer of fabric might stifle the increasing speed of Takeda’s breathing against the phone. His mouth is near against the receiver, the speaker so close to Ukai’s ear that it sounds as if Takeda’s lips are brushing at his hair, as if it might be the steady stroke of Ukai’s body that is drawing that sound up Takeda’s throat, and Ukai’s heart is racing faster, rushing itself to speed to match closer to Takeda’s present situation than the mundanity of his own.

_ “Oh,” _ Takeda gasps, breathless and desperate and breaking in his throat.  _ "Oh, U—Ukai-kun, I can’t—I’m—”  _ He manages a rasping inhale.  _ “Are you…” _

Ukai swallows moisture back into his dry mouth. “I’m listening.”

_ “Oh,” _ Takeda breathes; and then, as his inhale catches and his voice skips to aching height:  _ “Oh, god,  _ Keishin _.” _ Ukai’s cock twitches, his breath catches, and against his ear Takeda breaks into a moan that ripples up his throat as he comes.

It can’t be all that long that Ukai stands there, head bowed and breath speeding and the whole of his attention fixed on the sound from the receiver pressing to his ear; but his focus is so entire that it feels as if a lifetime has passed when Takeda’s stuttered gasps of pleasure ease into the deep, rapid breaths of satisfaction. Ukai keeps his eyes closed, his attention turned absolutely to the picture painted by the sound of Takeda breathing against his ear, until finally it is Takeda who takes a deep breath of intention and speaks with some kind of coherency again.  _ “Ukai-kun?” _

“Yeah,” Ukai rasps. His voice sounds as ragged as he feels. His heart is racing. “‘M here, sensei.”

_ “Oh.” _ Takeda still sounds breathless, even over that simple sound. Ukai can imagine him struggling back towards composure, can picture him pushing at the frames of his glasses and blinking hard to return himself to the moment.  _ “I’m glad. I was worried I might have lost you.” _

“No,” Ukai says. He swallows in an attempt to push down the knot of heat in his throat, which is an effort only marginally more successful than his totally useless struggle to will away the arousal running to aching heat through the whole of his body. “ _Definitely _ still here.” Ukai catches the phone between his head and shoulder so he can free a hand to push trembling fingers through his hair. “That was a hell of a thing, sensei.”

_ “Yes,” _ Takeda says with the gentle embarrassment that would be more suitable for accidentally lingering too long over a purchase at the store rather than moaning his orgasm into the phone at Ukai’s place of work.  _ “I didn’t take up too much of your time, did I?” _

Ukai coughs a laugh. “Not with this,” he admits, and glances back over his shoulder to make sure the store is still as empty as it was when the phone first rang. “Not sure how useful I’ll be for the rest of my shift, though. You’re too distracting for your own good.”

_ “Oh,” _ Takeda says, his voice warm and sweet with pleasure.  _ “That’s very kind of you to say, Ukai-kun.” _

Ukai shrugs. “It’s just true,” he says. “Think you’ll be awake when I’m done here?”

_ “Of course!” _ Takeda exclaims.  _ “Will you be coming over?” _

Ukai turns to lean his shoulder against the wall next to the phone and look out at the store. “I  _ was _ going to go straight home and to bed,” he drawls into the receiver. “But I just heard a real persuasive argument in favor of staying up a little later.”

Ukai would swear he can hear the dimpling smile Takeda gives on the other end of the phone.  _ “I’m so glad,”  _ he says.  _ “I’ll see you in a few hours.” _

“Yeah,” Ukai says. “See you then, Ittetsu.” Ukai waits to hear Takeda’s pleased, sharp intake of breath; and then he pulls the phone away from his ear to return it to the hook, and takes himself back behind the counter to find the best way to pass the time before he can follow up on the promise of Takeda’s phone call.


End file.
